Se7en
by streakie257
Summary: Now let me tell you about the seven deadly sins. DL.
1. Covetousness

Covetousness

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**Disclaimer:** The only thing I know for sure I possess is the sins. Not my players, just my playground.

**Summary:** Covetousness; the desire for material wealth or gain, ignoring the realm of the spiritual. You'd commit the sin if it meant she could have it all.

**AN:** A big thank you to my beta Katherine for editing this even though she was in Mexico. Also that the quote that's naming the sin is from the Jimmy Buffett song 'Bank of Bad Habits'. Also, also Katherine thought that this had angst and heat in stock piles so that's a bit of information for you; I looked at it and thought it more 'sinful'…

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Now let me tell you about the 7 deadly sins: coveting...thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife.

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Covetousness; the desire for material wealth or gain, ignoring the realm of the spiritual. You covet; in fact you're doing it right now. Years of living in New York, you should be used to the pretty sparkles of the diamond district, and until Lindsay you were. You could walk down here anytime and not stop at every window, not run over your bank account in your head to assess how much money you could spend. It was and will never be enough. Lindsay made you want to blow your every pay check on pretties. Jewels, clothing, Broadway tickets, dinners, you want to spoil her rotten. Everyone else can, why can't you. It's the first time you've ever thought your job didn't pay enough. Covetousness is a sin. A sin you are willing to commit if it means she could have it all.

A ruby catches your eye, its big and red set with diamond accents and would set between hollow of the neck and cleavage. Lindsay would look divine with that on, you lick your lips, and you would feel divine being able to treat her like the princess she is. That red would go with the dress you couldn't get out of your mind last week. It was that same red, with a heart shaped neck line, thin straps, tight bodice, and flow-y skirt. She had like it, and you wanted to be able to walk into the store and ask 'how much for the dress in the window' laugh at the price and shell it out in bills. No such luck. You want to be the man to walk into a store and buy it out all for your lady love.

Next to the ruby necklace you see a ring, also ruby, with the same diamond accents. It's gorgeous, and it's unique; just like Lindsay. The covetousness takes power in a way you can't ignore and you walk into the store. In your current state of work clothes you feel severely under dressed, almost like Julia Roberts in 'Pretty Woman'. You had enjoyed that movie, don't deny it, you're in deep with out that shoveling dirt out of your hole. The man behind the counter doesn't let anything show as you walk up to him and ask about that ring. Only a thousand dollars, not nearly enough to come close to the amount Lindsay is worth, but it is something. The man boxes up the ring, first in black velvet, then in a burgundy box with gold ribbon. You gave into the covetousness, so does that mean that now you have box in hand you are no longer coveting the ring? Or has your sinful nature just changed positions. Now you have a ring to fit her fire, but now you want more. Her last name perhaps. You want her name so you can do away with it and replace it with your own. You want Lindsay Messer and you want it now! You can't change your nature, you coveting sinner, but out of this desire you have become impulsive. As you head back to your home (also know as Lindsay's apartment, if you're honest) you think about your natural coveting and how you can cross of a thing on your want list. The boiling oil of hell can not keep you from getting this ring on her finger. Covetousness is a sin, a sin you'd commit if it meant she could have it all.


	2. Envy

Envy

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**Disclaimer:** The only thing I possess is the sin, unfortunately.

**Summary:** Envy is the desire for others' traits, status, abilities, or situation.

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Envy...do not envy your neighbor's wife.

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You're envious of a pen. A pen for heaven's sake, an inanimate option. Yet here you are willing to give your left arm to be that particular writing utensil. You are truly pathetic. You're as green as the hulk! All over something that gets ink on your hands. They say the punishment in hell for envy is submersion in freezing water; you say bring on the chill you want to be that pen.

Her desk is facing yours that's the problem; you can watch her and her pen. If you didn't see it playing in her fingers you wouldn't have these feelings. But damn you can see it dance through her fair tapers and you want to be it. Hell, you're already eating out of her hand, why can't you be in it. You love her down to her fingers.

Distracting yourself with an email only works for so long. When you look over at her again you still want to be that Bic ballpoint. She has the cap resting between her glorious lips. How you long to touch those lips, yet you can't you're at work. That's against the rules. Yet if you were a pen you wouldn't have that stipulation, you could rest against those lips any time you want, play through her fingers all the time. You're really starting to hate that pen. It's making you jealous and it doesn't have a pulse. What a sad state you are.

Paperwork was working as a fine distraction until she gets up. You're eyes can't help but follow her. She has her hair up, wound around that pen. The last straw. You love her hair more than you love her fingers, you thought it was the one place that you got to touch, but it didn't, you were wrong. To rest on her lips, to play through her fingers, and to lose yourself in her hair, a pen's life looks pretty good to you. And you can't take it any more. Getting up you follow her into the locker room, your envy of this pen has consumed you. It's just you and her when you make your move. With one hand you pull the pen out of her hair and entangle your fingers. The other hand weaves through hers and your lips meet. She kisses you back and your jealousy over the ballpoint subsides, you've found a way to be superior over the ink carrier. You have senses that can enjoy her. Now you feel like the pen should be envying you.

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_AN: This was the first sin I wrote and it's my favorite. Let me know if you liked it too._


	3. Gluttony

Gluttony

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**Disclaimer:** The only thing I possess is the sin, unfortunately.

**Summary:** Gluttony is an inordinate desire to consume more than that which one requires. You wish lunch could last forever, make the whole day on big afternoon.

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Gluttony...do not eat thy neighbor's wife's ...popcorn.

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The punishment in hell for the sin of gluttony is being force fed rats, and snakes, and other simply charming things. But you've eaten insects – some dead, some not. A rat doesn't sound so bad. What makes you a glut? Not you addiction to fudge stripe cookies, (that twelve step, just ain't working for you is it?) but your deep desire to have lunch last forever. You wish the whole day was a big afternoon. With Lindsay by your side you have no desire to get the check for the meal. A three course meal isn't time enough for you when you're with her. You don't want to get back to work when you eat with her. At a restaurant, you delight in the fact she's eating with you while every other guy drools like a starving man. At work you like sharing your matching brown bag lunches feeling one part domestic, one part grade school. And it's delicious.

Damn, she cooked for you. You're a sucker; even though the cookies are slightly burnt you're in love. You can here those snakes hissing in hell, you are more than willing to eat any and everything she makes. If you get to personally see her cook you'd eat charcoal. Of course in your mind seeing her personally cook means she'd be cooking in your apartment, sharing your stove and your name. Funny how something as pure and true as love turns into a deadly sin. Love equals Gluttony. Guess the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

Today you're on break and she's on call and you met in the middle at The Bagel Shop. She's eating a cranberry gobbler and the fact you want to gobble her up is eating you. She's got her hair all wavy and is dressed so nice in those brown gaucho things, pink sweater and shoes. She's making you hungry in the way that no whole grain bagel sandwich is going to fix. You have to wonder what someone that beautiful and uptown is doing with you. But you push your wonder aside and think about lunch, glutton at its finest. She's got cranberry sauce on the corner of her mouth and without a thought you kiss it away. There you go taking more than your share of food, there you go trying to devour her. You're a glut. The punishment in hell for the sin of gluttony is being force fed rats, and snakes, and other simply charming things. You say bring it on, with Lindsay you will always be hungry.


	4. Lust

Lust

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Disclaimer: All I've got is the sin I'm afraid.

Summary: Lust is an inordinate craving for the pleasures of the body. Yha, you're lustful. Anyone with a pulse and an eyeful of the treasure state girl would be.

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Lust...thou shalt not lust after his neighbor's wife.

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Lust is an inordinate craving for the pleasures of the body. Yha, you're lustful. Anyone with a pulse and an eyeful of the treasure state girl would be. You can't keep your eyes off of her, so you're always lustful. This is not remotely like your romantic history. You've always liked a little uncomplicated fun, but you've always been in control of your feelings. Not now, now you're a lusty, brazen, libido driven cow. If you weren't itching to take your Montana in your arms and fine the nearest empty place you'd be slightly worried over the fact lust is associated with the cow. But you're more occupied with figuring out where a private space for two is. When she's with you, you can't keep your hands to yourself, you want to touch her, hold her, kiss her, worship her, make love to her. You've done it before and you want to do it again. But not a work she tells you. Not at work some days temptation is the only thing that gets you to work. You're a masochist. You don't know how she can say no – she says you're great sin bed yet she can switch her libido on and off. She's amazing in bed, that's why you can't turn it off. You feel like Louis from History of the World Part I; 'What do you mean you don't do it? Of course you do it. We all do it. We love to do it. I just did it and I'm ready to do it again.' That's you in a nut shell. You did it twice last night and once this morning and if she doesn't get a safe distance away from you you're libel to do it again, right here on the table in the middle of everything – the lab, case, workday. You are a slave to your lust.

Praise the powers she does leave for the AV lab, now you can actually work. The idea of round four is safely out of your mind. Mac said to keep it out of the office – yha, right, its clear he doesn't know the joys of the treasure state girl and how you want to give her mind, body, and soul. Who needs a left arm when you have Montana on your right?

When she returns to your side she's popping pills. Your selfish libido asks if it's a headache, it prays its not. Not because it worries or cares for her, but because a headache means no touching. You fell relieved at the negative shake of the head as the pills go down. But then she tells you she's sore. You're a bastard. An utter ass. Your lust has hurt her, she can't bounce back like you, she can't stop you, you set a rhythm and a method that hurts her. Your lust is destructive. Yet in the back of your mind you wonder if it hurts down there, can you kiss it better? Lust is an inordinate craving for the pleasures of the body. Bring on the fire and brimstone of hell, you can't not be lustful when it comes to that treasure state girl…


	5. Pride

Pride

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**Disclaimer: **The only thing I posses is the sin I'm afraid.

**Summary:** Pride is the excessive belief in one's own abilities that interferes with the individual's recognition of the grace of God. You are not proud. Well, maybe just a little proud.

**AN:** Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud with out being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have people think us. Jane Austen.

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Pride...Thou shalt not have pride in thy neighbor

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Pride is the excessive belief in one's own abilities that interferes with the individual's recognition of the grace of God. It has been called vanity, either way it is the sin from which all others arise. You are not proud. Well maybe just a little bit, you're a little bit proud. There are some things you are exceptionally good at; of course for every success there are several lost causes. Humble pie if prepared right tastes pretty good. Lindsay makes the best humble pie. You used to be proud, then Lindsay gave you a slice of pie and you've become an addict. Maybe saying you're not proud isn't the best terminology, you still have pride its just no longer in yourself. You have all your pride in Lindsay. If you weren't a God fearing man you'd be the founder of the 'Church of Montana' where you'd worship at the alter of Lindsay twenty four/ seven. But you believe in God it was by his grace that Lindsay's in your life. It'd have to be him, man cannot be so lucky. So lucky as to have such a perfect woman loves you. She loves you. That's why you're proud; a woman with more ambivalence and grace than the entire would is bestowing her gifts on you.

Your pride is in Lindsay, that's where it should be after all. It's not just the fact she's an angel. Horses are associated with pride. She has a winged horse named Smoke tattooed on her hip. You're proud to know that little fact. No one else does. Pride is also associated with the color violet. Her 'self esteem' underwear is a brilliant amethyst. You're proud of that fact too. Your favorite thing to do with her is take her to crowded and popular restaurants. You love to treat her, and you also love the fact that every other man is glowing green envy as you walk by hand in hand. She chose you out of millions and you're proud to accept that honor. So maybe you're kinda proud…


	6. Sloth

Sloth

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**Disclaimer:** Hate the sin; love the sinner – more like have the sin, but not the sinner. Danny is not mine :(

**Summary:** Sloth is the avoidance of physical or spiritual work. With her you'd lay in bed till the cows came home.

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Sloth...do not be a slob.

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That damnable alarm has horrid timing. You would love to give that stupid bell a piece of your mind, right though the bedroom window. But that would mean you would have to move, and you'd rather have each individual leg hair ripped from your body. Everything was perfect, the world was right before that stinkin' alarm crashed your universe. You were in heaven lying in bed with an absolute angel curled in your arms blissfully in dreamland – then the dream ended. Feckin' alarm!

Sloth is the avoidance of physical or spiritual work, a deadly sin. With Lindsay in your arms you're the blackest of sinners. You don't want to go to work, you don't wanna, you don't wanna, you don't wanna. The thrill of a case is null in comparison to lying in bed all day with Lindsay, blocking out reality. With Lindsay you'd stay in bed until the cows come home. And since there are no cows in New York you'd be in bed with Lindsay for a very long time… Cows wondering down Madison Avenue… Why are you thinking about cows when you're cuddling? You wonder your mind back to the woman in your arms. She tells you, you have to get up and get ready for work. The sloth in you objects to her proposal – you can't command your body to move.

But eventually you do get up and got to work, even your slothy - iest urge can't really keep you from work. Lindsay makes the bed as you kiss her good – bye. As you walk out the door you heard a little 'moo'.

Sloth – skipping work so you can stay with Lindsay till the cows come home.


	7. Wrath

Wrath

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**Disclaimer:** I own CSI: NY (DVDs). That's it folks.

**Summary:** Wrath is manifested in the individual who spurns love and opts instead for fury. Don't make you angry, you won't like you when you're angry.

**AN:** And so ends the seven deadly sins. The Italian scene is from the awesome film 'The Four Seasons' my parents and their friends are so them. Go watch the movie, you'll understand.

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Anger...do not be angry with your neighbor's wife.

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They wouldn't like you when you're mad. Don't make you mad. You can feel yourself turning hulk green. Danny Smash! They said you're a hot head and you're not proving them wrong. Your Mama says you're passionate because you're an Italian, like your ancestry is a pass. For a while you believed it. 'Wada ya want, I'm an Italian.' 'I'm an Italian' you'd say. It got to the point that Aiden once threw open a window at work and screamed – "Everyone! Everyone! This man is an Italian!" Everybody on the east coast got the announcement, Thank You Aiden. You still flush at the memory.

You're wrath used to be because you're an Italian and people are annoying as hell, but that has taken second fiddle to a new trigger – Lindsay. Not that you're mad at her – like you could ever be mad at her, no Lindsay is your trigger because you love her. First off to get to the conclusion that you love her you nearly broke a punching bag. Since then every time anyone has looked at her you feel like smashing their face in. You want to scream 'Hey, back off – she's mine!' Even at the lab, breaking her rules; 1 – I'm not anyone's property, just their girlfriend. And 2 – not at work. But the way some of the officers flirt the looks the lab techs give and those coroners you just want to lock her away. And work doesn't get you going like interrogations. You work with officers and gentlemen; you interview the dregs of society, men with minds so far in the gutter that they actually need a new descriptor.

Like now, this scumbag rapist and his scumbag attorney are coming on to Lindsay. Danny Smash! When the rapist makes an unchecked comment you do about smash, but you're beaten to the punch by Lindsay finally losing her cool diplomatic self. You've rarely seen her so pissed, it's kind of scary, and it's kind of hot. Maybe she's Italian too.

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_AN: And the eighth deadly sin is... PIZZA! Thank you for reading, and thank you again to my beta, Katherine without her this would have a lot more type-os and grammer issues. XXOO Streakie_


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